Dragon Hearts
by lordelannette
Summary: She was pureblood royalty born into a commanding family that was surrounded by Dark magic. He was a muggleborn that happened to be best friends with the Chosen One. But when they met, their worlds clashed and they found themselves playing a dangerous game of push and pull that revolved around one another and consumed them whole.
1. All Stories Must Have a Beginning

Chapter 1: All Stories Must Have a Beginning

Narcissa softly stared down upon the newborn baby in her hands, thick emotions getting caught in her throat as she swallowed them down. Her vision was blurry with the unshed tears but no mistake was she _happy_ \- so, _so_ happy with her daughter secured in her arms- but she could feel the heaviness of the world surrounding them. There was no ignoring it.

Dread lingering around them like a dark shadow that treaded along the bed, simply waiting for the chance to devour them at the slightest slip. Oh yes, it was there, hovering and licking at her skin in anticipation. It was terrifying.

She had never envisioned it like this.

She had always wanted children. As a child she had fantasied about the day she would become a mother. The fantasy had been dreams that she had acted out as a young child with fake dollies that she would carry on her hip and cradle against her chest. She had longed for them for so long and now, she had them. Her _perfect_ family.

She was complete, her sole goal in life was achieved, but everything was... _wrong_. The world wasn't right. It was too dark and damning for the pure, for the innocent. Children weren't supposed to be raised in such dangerous times, babies weren't supposed to be _born_ in the middle of a war yet, here she was, cradling her newborn daughter tightly to her chest. This was real now. It was _too_ real.

Tears threatened to spill as she took in her daughter's precious face, flush and pink just as an hour old baby's should. Her daughter didn't deserve to be brought into such a dreary world, not with the threat of defeat on one hand and dealing with the rule of a madman on the other. Even Narcissa had been raised in a better world; a demanding pureblood society was the worst she had to deal with, the loss of her sister and her cousin had been eventful but that had happened later in her life when she had understood the ways of the world. There had been no war when she was a child and yet she would describe her youth as a hardship due to the social pressures of the society she had been born into.

Being a member of the Black family, she had been given everything and anything she wanted...as long as she did as she was told. There would be no difference with her own daughter. Living up to Lucius' expectations would be demanding enough but her daughter would have to deal with an abiding war, with no power to defend herself. Narcissa was far from ignorant and she wouldn't deny the strength that both sides possessed and that there was no clear winner that would be conquering the other any time soon. This war was going to drag on for years. Decades, possibly, and it made her heart clench in agony. How long could hell last in the Wizarding World before it tore everyone apart? How long would it be until it went after her own children and ripped them out of her arms, out of her life forever?

 _It wasn't supposed to be like this._

Her gaze hardened, darting towards the door before she tightened her arms around her newborn. She wouldn't let it happen. Her children would be fine if she kept them in the Manor. The world could have their war. The magic in the wards was too strong to be penetrated by their enemies and as long as her children remained there, all would be fine. She would be able to protect them even from **him**.

She quickly swept her piercing eyes around the room to make sure she was truly alone with her daughter before she nuzzled into her baby's cheek, letting her lips linger at the newborn's ear. "I'm sorry, so, so sorry, my love," she whispered. She brought her free hand up to swipe at the tears that were falling from her eyes. For bringing her's into such a dreadful world, it did make her feel sorry for her child, but never would she regret her children's birth.

"My sweet, sweet daughter," she cooed down at her baby, kissing the curled brown hair on top of the newborn's fragile head. "So perfect, so _pure_. Mama loves you."

Narcissa closed her eyes against her daughter's skin, feeling the overwhelming surge to keep the contact, knowing that their moments alone were limited and Lucius would be entering the room soon along with… She swallowed heavily at the thought and opened her eyes, scanning over her daughter for the umpteeth time. A mother was always the first one to memorize the faces of her children. Looking down at the newborn, Narcissa couldn't help but reminisce back to when her son, Tom, had been born, just three years prior. So alike and yet so different. Where Tom had been silent and observant, her daughter was soft coos and small smiles that would tug at the corner of her lips. A complete balance to one another.

Her family would be perfect; she could see their lives flashing before her eyes, every holiday, every milestone as her children continued to grow.

A warm smile stretched across her face. "You complete our family," she whispered. "We will be happy, I promise. Everything will be fine as long as we are together." She placed another kiss upon the newborn's head just as she heard a soft knocking at the door. Panic was quick to seize her heart but there was nothing she could do as the door was opened, taking less than a second before Lucius walked in, closely followed by their young son.

Her husband looked unsure as he gazed at her and the bundle in her arms but at her nod, beckoning them toward the bed, Lucius picked up Tom and strided forward. In Lucius' grasp, Tom clung to his father's shoulder, never taking his steel eyes off of her or his new sibling. Once Lucius made his way next to the bed, he gently sat both him and Tom on the edge, letting go of their son to let him get closer to her.

Lucius was quick to take their daughter into his own hands. If it were possible, the baby appeared even smaller than she already was- more fragile. Narcissa watched carefully.

When they had first married, Lucius had been adamant on a child to further on the family name. A son was what he always wanted, and it had been a relief when it was revealed their first born was a boy. They didn't have to conceive more because a son was all they - _Lucius_ \- had desired, but he hadn't shunned her longing for another. All worry of Lucius' reaction turning sour disappeared as he smiled softly down at their daughter. She was perfect in his eyes- worthy to carry on his name- otherwise he would've… She would've already known had he not been pleased with the newest addition to their family. At the moment he appeared to be the happiest wizard in the entire world, a rarity for her husband, and it made a warmth spread throughout her body.

Her gaze shifted to Tom who was intently watching the interaction between his father and the baby. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Tom's small frame, bringing him closer to the rest of them as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He blinked up at her but his gaze was quick to train back onto his sister.

"Mine?" Tom leaned forward to loom over the baby in his father's hands.

Lucius nodded his head, briefly switching his attention to their son. "Yes, son. This is your sister," he said with a proud grin. "You're a big brother now. You must protect her, do you understand?"

Narcissa watched Tom nod at his father, too seriously for a boy of his age. "I promise Father. I will protect her from them." She felt her face threaten to crumble at her son's words. She had no doubt he would be a protective brother but it was the fact that he knew the difference between the sides of war that he distinguished with one.

The war had already touched her son. Lucius had already exposed their loyalty to forces she never wanted Tom to see. It was devastating. She fought back the tears when Tom lowered his head to kiss at his sister's lips, a bond already forming between her two children as her daughter's eyes fluttered open. It was as if time stood still while the two siblings locked eyes, Tom's promise silent as he hovered over his sister and smiled down at her.

"I love you sister," he muttered close to the baby's cheek, his pale skin brushing against the newborn's flesh. "Forever and ever, Hermione."

* * *

Peace was something that was always taken for granted. You either have it in one moment and in the next, it's gone. It was like a cloud that would wash over them for just a few moments, in the midst of movement and chaos, and there would be a stillness inside. A moment, even in it's briefest stage, was bliss. The world would slow down, there would be no war looming beyond their warded grounds or Death Eaters running throughout their beloved home, everything would just be _still_. The moments were rare but they were everything she lived for now. It's what pushed her onward in these dreary days as long as her children were wrapped in her arms.

Like now, with Tom and Hermione nestled in her lap as her son marveled at his new baby sister. For the past hour they had been allowed to get lost in time, the world was shut off from their family, as they simply all laid in the bed together. But like all good things, it was quickly put to an end as a hasty knock rang throughout the room.

The door flew open and Narcissa beamed at who she saw. A woman with wild black curls bounded through with a toddler of her own hoisted on her hip. The woman smiled widely at the sight of them all on the bed, before she strided over, huffing away the stray lock that had fallen into her vision. The second Narcissa's sister joined them, the toddler rapidly managed to climb over them and sit himself next to Tom, curiously eyeing the baby in his lap.

"Cygnus," the woman hissed at the wild toddler. "Settle yourself."

But Narcissa patted her sister's worries away. "Nonsense, Bella. Let him see her." She smiled warmly at her nephew. He was practically her second son, Tom's twin as they liked to term since the two cousins were only a couple months apart and nearly always joined at the hip. The two of their children did everything together and she wouldn't want it any other way. "Besides, unless you plan on having anymore children-," Narcissa turned to grin teasingly at her sister, but was cut off by Bella's snort.

"Cissa, you and I both know that Cygnus is more than enough," Bella said with a quick look in her son's direction. "Besides, Rodolphus wanted a son and only one."

Narcissa forced her attention to the cluster of their children, staring unblinkingly as the two boys played with Hermione's small fingers. In all honesty, she had been surprised when Bella had a kid to begin with. Never in all of their years growing up together had her older sister ever expressed the want of children but she would never wouldn't go as far as describing Bella as the motherly type but she had grown...kinder since his arrival, more affectionate than she had been before. It was only when _he_ was in the room, that her sister would transform before her very eyes. She liked to ignore those moments.

"And you?" Bella's question brought her out of her revier. "Is Hermione going to be the last Black grandchild or do you plan on having a horde like some-"

"No," Narcissa interrupted her sister with a humorous smile. "Hermione's my last. Having more wouldn't...it wouldn't do anything for our family. We're complete now, Bella. This is it."

Bella hummed. "Good," she stared down at the children. "You can't serve the Dark Lord while being pregnant."

And just like that, the bliss was gone. It was there one moment and gone the next.

"Bella…" she began but the words died in her throat as she became aware of the pair of eyes watching her. Both of the boys had turned towards her, as had Lucius and she tried her hardest to not bristle underneath their keen eyes; always looking, always _expecting_.

Her sister cleared her throat and gestured towards Hermione with a jerk of her chin. "Well, she looks just like Tom did. Could be twins if there was no age gap...and the eyes, of course are different. It's hilarious that neither of them inherited the blonde but I must admit I am quite fond of the brown. A nice mix between you and Lucius'," Bella softly twisted the fine hairs upon Hermione's head around her fingers. "Makes me think that the Black genes aren't strong, Cissa, since Cygnus only inherited his hair color from me. Perhaps we'll find out if Regulus ever has a child. He has to carry on the family name before that blood traitor taints our lineage anymore than our-"

"Who knows what the future holds," Narcissa quickly said. "Anything can happen at this rate."

"Of course, of course," Bella waved her off, her dark eyes skimming frantically over the three children in anticipation. "Cissa, the Dark Lord wants to meet her. He's here, in the sitting room with Severus. We mustn't keep him waiting."

Narcissa could feel the icy tendril seep down her spine at the mention of their Lord. She had been expecting it but nothing would ever prepare her for getting used to the man's presence, no matter how many times he would be in the same vicinity as her. She had known he would come and see the newest arrival, he had done the same when Cygnus and Tom had been born. It wasn't as if they - she - could say no. He would blast the door down if she ever had the gall to refuse him and what was worse was that her sister and husband would probably allow their beloved Lord to kill her on the spot. The two of them were in the top of Voldemort's ranks and they didn't get there by standing against him. It was unsettling to think of such things but that was the cruel reality of the world she was living in, the world she had brought her _children_ into.

She forced her turn of thoughts away and grinned uneasily towards her sister, shuddering away the stiffness that found its way around her shoulders. "Bring him in," she gave a slow nod. Bella's attention darted towards Lucius and wordlessly exchanged a conversation before the blonde patriarch turned and walked through the door.

With Lucius gone, she turned her worrisome eyes down onto her slumbering daughter, softly positioned in her brother's arms. Tom was right by her side with Cygnus in front of him and the three of them appeared to not have a single care in the world. They were simply basking in Hermione's arrival and it was almost enough to melt even her own worries away. But, unlike the children, she knew what was out there and knew what powers threatened their family. There would be no carefree spirits coming from her. She had to stay strong and alert for her them. It was all that mattered to her.

"Everything will be so different now," Bella's voice lulled out. "A little girl like her growing up in our family, I mean. She'll be so different from the boys."

Narcissa nodded her head. "It won't be that bad," she admitted. "There were three of us girls growing up in one house and we turned out fine. Surely one daughter won't be too troublesome."

She could pinpoint the exact moment that her sister turned sour but Bella did nothing but pinch her lips in agitation. The older witch knew better than to hinder her mood on the day of her daughter's birth. She hadn't meant to cause her sister any wrong but there were times that she would simply forget that there were certain aspects of their lives that they were meant to forget and ignore, as if certain _people_ had never existed. It was hard...but she didn't have a choice in the matter. She didn't have the chance to dwell on that either as she heard several footsteps approach the door.

Lucius entered first, with two other men, both clad in black, that everyone knew and recognized instantly. One was practically crackling in dark energy and the other wasn't too far behind, he was just better at controlling his magic instead of letting it tower over every individual in the room like the dominance that it was. Her arms ached to bring her children closer to her but the movement would instantly set the Dark Lord on edge, along with everyone in the room. She was supposed to be loyal to him, willing to present her children to the man in the blink of an eye, not shield them away.

Her fingers twitched against the fabric of the blanket that had been wrapped around Hermione as Lucius swept their daughter out of Tom's hands, her eyes lingering on the newborn as her husband began to hand the bundle to Voldemort.

"My Lord," Lucius bent his head, "we would like for you to meet our daughter, Hermione."

Narcissa bit into her lip as Voldemort's pale hands wrapped around Hermione, bringing the baby close to his chest. His dark eyes were skimming over her daughter's features and Narcissa felt her stomach churn in repulsion, wanting nothing more than to rip her daughter away from the twisted man's grasp. The things that man had done...the lives he had ruined, it was horrifying yet the same man's hands were wrapped around her daughter.

"Congratulations," Voldemort's strong voice rang out. He leaned his head down and pushed his lips down onto Hermione's forehead, eyes closing at the contact. "She's perfect." Narcissa's piercing stare was trained directly on the lips against her daughter, the lips that were lingering for far too long for her comfort. She had to do something. She had to-

"Severus," her attention locked onto the other man in the room, a beloved friend she had the pleasure of saying for the past several years. He had been watching the interaction between Hermione and Voldemort with an emotionless face but she was used to that expression, knowing that he never let his true feelings show through. It's what she admired so much about him; his ability to stay strong and forthcoming yet understanding and at times, gentle, when it came to the children.

At his name being called, he turned to look at her expectantly. "We wanted to ask you if we could have the of making you Hermione's Godfather." She nearly flinched when she saw Voldemort's eyes snap open and stare down at her daughter. Through the corner of his dark gaze, the Dark Lord glanced at one of his most prized Death Eaters. Narcissa could only hold her breath as she kept her focus on Severus, waiting for him to react. _Anything_. Even the slightest, most briefest curve of his mouth was all she needed. To her, it felt like ages until Severus' dark brows raised slightly. He was surprised though, that much she could tell and she knew that Severus had thought that the role would have been given to Voldemort just as it had been with Tom and Cygnus. There had been no hesitation on Lucius' part when she had gotten pregnant with Tom but this time Narcissa had made sure her husband knew that it would be different this time. Voldemort wouldn't be the Godfather to both of her children. She simply wouldn't stand for it and didn't care how their Lord would react. Severus deserved to be her daughter's Godfather and she wanted no one else to fulfil the position but him.

She smiled up at him when she recognized his gratitude almost having stunned him into silence. "The honor is all mine," he sternly nodded his head, a bright gleam present in his black eyes that she had never seen before. When his gaze turned back towards Hermione, he didn't bother to hide the softness in his eyes as they took in the newborn. The image warmed her to the core.

"Congratulations, Severus." Voldemort's cold voice shattered the moment, slicing and tearing into the air like a vice. "You're a fortunate man," he remarked before turning his torso to gently hand Hermione to the Death Eater. It was an instant relief when Narcissa watched Hermione nestle into her Godfather's arms. There was an awestruck look on her friend's face as he ghosted his fingers across Hermione's features and to her surprise, her daughter had silently woken up. She straightened up ready to take Hermione from Severus before she started to fuss but she was quickly stilled as she watched a smile slowly creep onto Severus' face. Hermione had managed to wrap her small hand around Severus' index finger and was gazing up at him, not a single cry leaving her mouth. The encounter between the two was beautiful as she had never seen Severus so at ease as he was at that very moment. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and threatened to spill over.

However, instead of everyone's attention on Severus and Hermione, Lucius and Bella were eagerly watching Voldemort, and to her disdain, so were the two boys. Tom and Cygnus had always had an intense admiration of Lord Voldemort and really, it had been unavoidable. Lucius and Bella were nearly always with the man and Rodolphus was never that far behind which left Cygnus in extremely close proximity to the madman and wherever Cygnus was, Tom wouldn't be too far away. And what was worse, was that the Dark Lord always wanted his Godsons near. Even now, Voldemort was grinning at the two of them like they were his own, and in a way, the boys were. Voldemort controlled a vast majority of what the two of them came into contact with, in both the forms of people and...the activities of the Death Eaters. Lucius always assured her that neither of the boys ever witnessed anything too graphic, but it was rare for Narcissa to ever believe a word that came from her husband. He was blinded by the madman they followed and the twisted words that he spewed. All of them were.

Voldemort reached down and grasped both Tom and Cygnus by the shoulder. "It'll be quite the journey training the three of them," he said. From her place in the bed, Narcissa's heart halted in her chest, palms starting to sweat. "But I wouldn't want it any other way. These three will lead the newest generation and to do so, they have to be trained. These next years to come will be the most important for our cause - to prepare a better world for these children, the next wizards and witches to make an importance. They'll be powerful and ruthless and no one will be able to _harm_ them." Her eyes widened and darted to Tom and Cygnus, balking as they grinned up at their Godfather collectively. They were simply too young and naive to the nightmare Voldemort was and she had no power to show them the truth nor was she sure that she wanted to. The boys loved him, as much as it pained her to admit, and if they were happy in his presence, what was she to do? Especially with her husband and sister beaming in pride at them. This is what they had wanted all along, more leverage into the Dark Lord's favor and had the audacity to go as far as presenting their own children to him.

The world was a dark, damning place that ripped people's sanity apart and replaced it with festering copies of what they used to be.

"These children," the Dark Lord continued, "are the ones that will lead us into victory. The three of them will stand by my side when we rule them all."

She watched as Lucius nodded his head in anticipation, a determined glint in his silver eyes but she felt no such thing. She felt nothing but remorse, thinking that her children were being robbed of their lives before it had even began. And in that briefest span of seconds, Narcissa _knew_. She knew that just like everything else that came into Voldemort's path, the life as she knew it was tethering on fine strings until the torment of his war tore them apart.

Merlin would be the only one to save them now.

* * *

October 30, 1981

Time was of the essence when a war was in place. Months could determine which side was increasing in numbers as supporters flocked in from all across the wizarding world; weeks could determine which side was losing; days could tell you which friends and family members had been taken away; and hours - the worst form of time - could mean a person being there one moment and gone the next.

That's what time could do. He was an undeniable, powerful bastard that even the Dark Lord couldn't overtake. For now at least…

It felt that this new life had dragged on for ages now, yet, in reality, only a mere year had dragged by. It had been hard and tough but it didn't take from success as their message continued to be heard by the thousands. The sheer force of the Dark Lord's followers was something the Wizarding World had never seen before. They were feared, respected, and even admired by the magical society in ways that were unbelievable by some, mainly those that were solely loyal to the Light. But as they continued to rise in their power, so did the number of people who opposed of their ideals.

Battles were no stranger to the Wizarding World anymore. Deaths had become more common than births just as it was to see another wizard strike a curse at another instead of shake their hand. The fighting between the dark and light had gotten so out of hand and so dominant that it had finally been acknowledged by the Ministry as a crisis that had taken over England. Many would argue that it was considered a global event but none of the other Ministries had taken action as of yet. However, there was no denying that the war was beginning to take a toll on population numbers.

The Death Eaters killed anyone that opposed them, it was common knowledge at this point. It was a stressful time that kept building up on everyone; keeping those on edge and hesitant of talking to those that they may have known in a time not that long ago. It was hard to walk out of your front door and not know if you would be home for dinner.

For Lucius, it was the opposite. Being Voldemort's right hand and being one of the top ranked Death Eaters did have it's benefits, after all. Many considered the circumstances unfair, which he did have to consider had a plentiful deal of truth, but he didn't give a damn on how others felt. He had a job to do, a job that the Dark Lord had given him specifically.

 _Don't get caught._

It was a simple task, more simpler than any of the others had been given but at the same time, it was the hardest. At times it could be so damn hard to keep silent on his views when in the public eye because he had a high influence on the Ministry of Magic, not to mention the overwhelming wealth of his vaults, that needed to be maintained in order to serve its purpose to the Dark Lord. It certainly wouldn't bode well for him to start spewing his blood purity supremacy when the Ministry made it clear they were so accepting of those of lesser status'. He had to stay in charge, the people needed to know he was on a mutual standpoint or else they would turn on him faster than a tick infestation in Azkaban.

On most days he was ordered to stay tucked away in the Manor as Death Eaters popped in and out after their missions to give him their reports on raids and minor battles that took place. Voldemort didn't waste his time with useless tasks such as that. That wasn't to say, however, that he didn't participate in the tortures and killings of anyone that threatened their cause because he most certainly did and by the _tenfold_. He had long lost count of the number of individuals that had died by his wand alone; how many magical and muggle people had faced his curses before he cut their lives short. He would listen with deaf ears when those same people would beg for their life - with their hands stretched out towards him, faces full of misery and horror, bleeding and broken right before his very eyes. They would look at him with such pleading, crawling on their knees to ask him for mercy but they just didn't understand. They didn't _get_ it.

Their lives were worthless to him. They meant less to him than the mud that would coat his dragon hide boots during those wet raids. They were _nothing_ , less than that if there another word. And the more he did it, the more he thrived in knowing that he was doing the Wizarding World a favor - ridding their precious world of the scum that infested their society, the filth that littered Hogwart's halls. Each one he and the others ended, was another mudblood less than before.

He did it for his family; his wife and his most prized possessions. _His_ children. The very beings that he had _brought_ into this world. Tom and Hermione were the very reason he woke up in the mornings and continued to do what he did and so meticulously close to Voldemort's orders of not getting caught. How was he supposed to protect his family if he were locked away in a piss hole? The answer was simple - he wouldn't. So, every time he was called for a raid, his signature hair was hidden from sight and his face was blocked by his metal mask. He wouldn't be fickle enough to get caught but if the months kept passing as they did know, he wouldn't have to hide for much longer. Soon, he would be able to show his face proudly and not hesitate to partake in a public execution.

He could hardly wait.

* * *

It had started out as a mere whisper; a prophecy that had somehow spread quickly across the Wizarding World and took society by storm. Followers of the Light saw hope for the first time in a very long time but the rest of them...they saw the threat for what it was. An end to everything they had worked so hard for and the ideals they praised so strongly.

And if there was anything the Dark Lord hated most, it was a threat against his power. Therefore, when wind caught up to Voldemort, hell was unleashed.

When Lucius himself heard of the prophecy, he had nearly laughed at its absurdity. A mere baby was what would bring their powerful Lord crumbling apart? Not a chance, he had thought at the time but when Voldemort had made it their topmost priority, none of the Death Eaters took the matter light anymore. They all feared the possibility of being Lordless, knowing that if he fell then it wouldn't be long until they were hauled away like animals and locked into chains and shoved into Azkaban. That is, if they were lucky.

 _...born as the seventh month dies…_

That was the key that Voldemort latched onto. With the Ministry heavily corrupted, it had been almost too easy to get ahold of the magical birth records. It had first come down to a handful of children but Voldemort focused his prime attention on two - a halfblood named Harry Potter and a pureblood by the name of Neville Longbottom. Both were the offspring of known Order members, which had been another clue from the prophecy.

 _...born to those who have thrice defied him…_

With Voldemort's attention and wrath focused on such small families, Lucius knew the two infants didn't stand a chance. He wouldn't put it past his beloved Lord to take both of them out in the process, just to ensure the possibility of it being either one of them that would lead to his demise. Their Lord wasn't a stupid man, after all.

It had been nearly dead into the night when Lucius felt his forearm burn in haste. The Dark Lord had gathered up his most loyal Death Eaters, which wasn't a rarity when the matter at hand was of importance. Joining him at the large table was Severus, Bella, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, the Lestrange brothers, and Karkaroff, while Voldemort sat proudly at the head - a pleased grin on his face that had the rest of them beaming in anticipation.

They had sat there for what felt like hours as the Dark Lord discussed his plan that would take effect immediately the following night. He had grown tired of waiting and wanted to end the preposterous hope that had the Light radiating, glowing in the possibility of his end. He wanted to ruin them once and for all and they all knew that this was the way to do it. _This_ would be what destroyed them.

"My Lord-" Bella leaned forward in her chair, bowing her head as Voldemort's stare snapped to her. "- How will you find them? We have been searching for the Potter's for weeks and yet haven't came across anything. The Fidelius Charm is nearly impossible to trace and there's no doubt that Dumbledore would be the Secret Keeper himself."

All eyes turned back towards Voldemort as he nodded his head, an eery glint that they all recognized gleaming in his dark eyes. He tilted his head back as he snapped his fingers, the sound echoing across the room before a loud pop of apparition followed.

Lucius eyed the house elf with brief, mild disgust before taking immediate interest in the figure slouched over with a dark cloth placed over his head and visible cuts bleeding through his clothing. His hands were magically bound behind his back but even through the invisible bindings, a deep red crimson was dripping from his wounds. It was obvious the man had been tortured for some time and it could only mean that it was someone that Voldemort found interesting. Days of torture meant their Lord wanted to break them, slowly and methodically until they were drowning in their own blood and sweat.

With a flourish, Voldemort flicked his wand toward the man and together his followers sat up straight, eyes wide as he revealed the identity of the prisoner.

Peter Pettigrew was hardly recognizable but they all knew who he was, a member of Dumbledore's supporters, one of the golden Order members. When the Dark Lord stood and began to circle around the broken man, they too stood and watched as Voldemort's wand trained on the man on the floor.

"My _friends_ ," the word sounded twisted on his tongue, "I bring before you all the very man who is the Secret Keeper of the Potters. You may all find this amusing, but this man has revealed their location to me without a single curse from my wand. He offered to me what he knew we wanted, begging for his life to be spared. As he said, he would like to _join_ us."

Bella, once again, stepped forward, head bowed low as she addressed Voldemort. "But my Lord, what of Sirius? He was the one we believed to be the Secret Keeper, he's Potter's best friend. Surely, this is a rouse - a trap they've set up for us to take."

"I've already taken that into consideration," Voldemort responded, his eyes set and determined on Pettigrew. "But this coward before us is telling the truth. I've had him reporting to us for weeks now and every piece of information he's given has been beneficial in our raids. The location of the Potters was the very first thing he gave us; betraying his friends in the blink of an eye," their Lord taunted the man as he cowered before them.

"Tomorrow night, I will kill the Potter boy," Voldemort turned away from Pettigrew and looked at each of them. "Once he's dead, the remaining Order will go next. They're already falling apart believing they have a spy in their ranks. They're turning on each other just as fast as we are gaining new supporters," he grinned. "But...we will save Dumbledore for last. I want to see him defeated before I kill him, the look of anguish on his face frozen for his afterlife. I want him to know that I've finally _won_."

* * *

One by one the Death Eaters apparated from the Manor until all that was left was Bella, Severus, and him. The Dark Lord was before them, and nodded his head, a sickening smile on his face. "Tomorrow will be the day we have all waited for. Our plans for the Wizarding World will be put into full force until it is cleansed of the filth that has infested our sacred society."

Lucius turned his head when he caught sight of Pettigrew in the corner, the rest of the individuals doing the same. It was Voldemort who approached the man, a look mixed with disgust and eagerness as he looked down. "We will need to deal with Mr. Pettigrew. He needs to be taught loyalty if he wants to be considered for our ranks."

"What would you like for us to do, my Lord?" Lucius said, meeting Voldemort's gaze with ease. It was silent as the Dark Lord contemplated what to do, his dark eyes set on Pettigrew the way a predator watches its prey until he nodded his head, slowly but surely.

Voldemort turned towards him and Bella, and grinned. "Tomorrow morning I want Tom and Cygnus to meet with me in the drawing room. They're still young but they need to witness what we do to those who are not loyal. They need to see firsthand what it takes to show who has the power and who was destined to be ruled."

He peered back down towards Pettigrew who was shaking in fear on the ground, trembling from head to toe. "I'm confident that you will admire my godsons. They both have quite the potential; young and determined, knowing what they want in life while having everything and everyone they will possibly ever need. Children are beautiful things, aren't they?" He sneered, nastily that made Pettigrew shrink even more if it were possible.

"Of course, I only mean those that are born of the right lineage, and to those on the right side. The offsprings of those such as the _Potters_ for example," he tsked, "deserve to be put out of their misery, wouldn't you agree?"

Pettigrew stayed motionless, his eyes darting every which way except on Lord Voldemort.

"Well," Voldemort smiled, cruel and heartless, "considering you betrayed them, I believe you do."

* * *

Night of October 31, 1980

It was dark both inside and outside of the Granger Manor, the only source of fluorescence was the lightning that would brighten up the sky every few seconds. All day it had been raining. Not a light sprinkle, or clouds of drizzle, no. It was as if the floodgates of the skies above had been opened and it's main goal was to drown every living creature in the world. To her, however, it felt as if the sky was in mourning. As if it too sensed the malevolent change that was taking place.

Midnight had come and gone hours before yet here they were, still awake and waiting. _Waiting, waiting, waiting._ It had been hours now, as she sat in her chair and watched as Lucius paced back and forth, over and over, in front of the fireplace as his mind raced. He had been unable to sit still once the deadline had passed and now it was an excruciating game of waiting.

Both of their children were fast asleep upstairs and had been for quite some time. Tom had gone to bed earlier than usual, being both physically and mentally exhausted from his altercation with his Godfather and Pettigrew. He had transformed before her very eyes when she first spotted him come out of the drawing room; stoic and silent, almost as if he had aged an entire decade in the span of those short hours. Cygnus, on the other hand, had been unable to stay quiet as he jumped up and down in excitement, too caught up in the adrenalin that was coursing through his small veins. Her nephew had always been the untamable one, much like her sister. She hadn't been able to say anything, only watching as Lucius presented Tom with a Granger signet. Tears had pricked her eyes when Tom smoothed the band onto his finger with a proud grin, wholly matching that of his father.

Her son had grown up. Barely a toddler, yet he had done those terrible things… things she should have been able to protect him from.

"The Dark Lord should be here by now," Lucius snapped, fierce silver eyes locking on her. "If there was trouble he would have summoned us. How hard would it be to dispose of a child the same age as Hermione?"

Narcissa tried her hardest to not balk underneath his scrutiny. The thought of such a cruelty performed on an innocent child, let alone the same age as her very own, was doing very damning things to her morality.

"Maybe he changed his plan," she began softly. "Maybe the prophecy wasn't valid and there was no threat to his cause -"

" _Our_ cause," he corrected her with a sneer, eyes flashing in warning. "Or maybe the Dark Lord already succeeded and his power was drained. It would explain why his apparition is delayed or why he hasn't given us any signal through our marks," he looked down to his exposed forearm. He had unbuttoned his sleeves long ago, revealing the dark contrast against his pale skin. It made her want to vomit at the sight of it.

She inhaled shakily as she found her next words, knowing that her husband wouldn't find it beneficial in the slightest. "Love …" she gazed at him apprehensively, "What if… What if the Dark Lord fails?"

Her husband spun around rapidly, his pale blonde hair billowing behind him. "Don't you dare say such -"

She stood up from her chair. "Stop!" she yelled. "Don't pretend that the option of failure wasn't a possibility that could unfold."

"The Dark Lord can kill a child," he venomously spat in her direction. "The Dark Lord can kill it's blood traitor father and it's mudblood mother with ease."

"Then why isn't he here!" she sobbed. "What could have possibly drained him of his power like you said? A _child_ , Lucius?! If he's failed-"

"He hasn't failed!"

Tears were beginning to fall from her eyes. "What will happen to us?" she begged him to answer. "Will we be taken to Azkaban? What about our children, will they be taken from us? Given to another wizarding family or thrown into the muggle world like garbage!? Who will take care of them!? They're going to take Hermione and Tom away from us, Lucius!"

Her husband gripped her wrists and she knew he could feel her shaking. He was furious and she wanted nothing more than to be upstairs with her children, protecting them as much as she could. Something was wrong, she _knew_ it.

"No one is going to take our children from us. **No one** ," he barked. He released her just as fast as he had grabbed her, and took large breaths to force himself to calm down. He had turned away from her and marched up to the fireplace, staring into its wild flames.

"If he was to fail, the authorities would have no reason to come after us," he started, slowly. "I have never been traced to him. Even if suspicions were to arise, I could bribe the Ministry. Or even claim that we were under the Imperius if need be."

She closed her eyes in relief. Her husband had never been a stupid man, then again he had made the decision to follow after the madman like a depraved animal, and not the powerful, pureblood wizard that he was. Then again, it was because of that that he had offered his services to Voldemort in the first place.

But just as she began to ease in his reassurance, another face came into mind. She shook her head knowing that the answer to her second worry wouldn't be a good one. "My sister, Lucius. What will happen to her?"

Lucius eyed her briefly. "They've been spotted numerous times. Her and Rodolphus, along with Rabastan. Neither of the three are shy to vocalize their allegiance."

There was no doubt in her mind that if Voldemort were to fail, her sister would be hauled away without the possibility of a trial. She cursed her sister's insolence.

"We will keep Cygnus," she remarked. There was no question in her voice. It wasn't a request. " _If_ it were to come to that."

Her husband nodded his head. He knew better than to think otherwise.

She wanted to smile at him, to show her appreciation of his words but she couldn't find the will to. She held so much anger towards him these days, for bringing them into this world. She had thought she got out of the Dark's control when she escaped her parent's house, little knowing that it would follow after her like the plague that it was. It wanted to consume her whole, or at least that's what it felt like.

She sank back into the chair as Lucius walked over towards the cabinet that held his sacred firewhiskey. She let her thoughts escape her as she listened to the clinking of the tumbler glass connect with the bottle of whiskey. Her husband rarely drank apart from social gatherings with acquaintances but it wasn't odd to see him grab a glass when he was alone either. His nerves must finally getting to him, she mused.

She turned to peer out the large windows just as another lightning strike lit up the room. It appeared that the storm was getting even stronger as the wind and rain thrashed against the windows. She wondered if either of her children would awaken because of it, hoping that nothing would disrupt their sleep. Tom was always terribly cranky when he was rudely awaken; never the morning person, that one was. A fond smile graced her lips as a particular memory evaded her mind but it was short lived as she heard her husband, any pleasant thought washing away just like the rain on their windows.

Lucius had inhaled sharply, the crystallized glass in his hand slipping as he moved to clutch at his left forearm. His eyes went wide and she paled as his frantic gaze found hers.

"He failed."

It came out as a whisper but Narcissa heard him as if he had yelled.

Outside, it continued to pour.

* * *

Everything blurred before her eyes, seemingly stuck in a time of fast forward yet dreadfully slow as individuals and objects morphed into each other. This couldn't be real, she had to be caught in some cruel nightmare, standing motionless as Lucius seemed to disappear from her sight more times than not. He was yelling into the fireplace, so loudly that the words were pounding against her skull yet she couldn't comprehend what she was hearing. Her heart was racing so fast that she feared it would burst in her chest. She could feel her sanity falling apart, piece by piece, as her worries started to jump to the surface.

She raised a hand to place it on her chest, eyes going wide when Lucius turned on her. She could see the vein in his neck beating as rapidly as her heart and took a step back, inching to the double doors as the seconds ticked by. She didn't want to be there when all hell broke loose. She had seen firsthand the damage Lucius could do when he was angry and at that moment, she knew she had never seen him as furious as he was now.

Narcissa silently kept inching backwards, slowly - so slowly - as the magic surrounding her husband flared wildly. She could hear its dangerous hiss as it drank in her worries; her fear. Her steps began to get quicker. She needed to be ready to leave, ready to flee when Lucius would finally lose it.

Narcissa watched every move her husband took with hawk-like eyes and when he advanced, her hands were already placed against the thick wood of the doors ready to run as fast as she could _away_ from him and to her children. However, just as his eyes narrowed at her actions, several distinct pops shot through the air. Her eyes closed in relief as she registered the change in the wards. The other Death Eaters had finally joined them. They would keep her husband occupied...for now, at least. It was in the blink of an eye that Lucius turned away from her and towards the Death Eaters that had started to gather around, each of them sharing a hard, frantic and angry gaze.

Her hand tightened around the handle. She didn't belong here...she didn't _want_ to be here. She wanted-

Bellatrix rushed up, startling her as she pulled at her arm. Her sister's black eyes shone dangerously in the light.

"Cissa-" Bella's voice broke her thoughts like a whip against flesh. "Cissa, listen to me. Go get Cygnus. He knows what to do, he's waiting for you. The house elves are transferring our heirlooms into the vaults before the Ministry has the chance to raid the Manor. I need to be with the others, we...we need to find out what happened."

She blinked at her older sister. There was nothing more they could do, didn't she realize that? The mission was over, _**they**_ were over. The Dark Lord had lost. What more could they possibly have to do? They needed to protect _themselves_ now, her sister included.

But when Bella turned away from her, it appeared that her sister didn't have the same intuition. Her hand shot out and clamped around her sister's wrist before she could understand what it was she was doing. It was an act of desperation, she knew, but when Bella's impatient eyes flickered towards her, she faltered. What was she to say? There wasn't a thing she _could_ say that would change her sister's mind. She just had to accept it.

As another second ticked by, she released her sister with a shaky breath. It was all she could do before Bella strided towards the Death Eaters yelling amongst one another.

Narcissa spotted the lost cause for what it was and she disapparated without a moment of hesitation.

* * *

The Lestrange Manor never failed to unsettle her. It was buried deep in the forest, away from life itself, it seemed, and the sun never made its presence known as it was hidden behind the hundreds of thousands of leaves that blocked its rays. If one wasn't looking carefully, they would miss it as the giant manor had a sinister way of disappearing into the shadows. It was quiet there too, with no one to hear the screams for miles on end. Although, Narcissa had always figured that that's how the Lestrange's liked it, dating even centuries back. It was one of the main things that had drawn her sister in; it's dark claws sinking deep in Bella and not once releasing its grip.

However, when she arrived in the foyer, the house was very much alive. Every light in the house was on and there were several house elves scurrying past her with multiple objects balanced in their hands. Some of the creatures had objects levitating in the air due to the dark magic that had long possessed the items. She bypassed them almost immediately and took to the stairs, trampling up them as fast as her heels could take her.

When she made it to Cygnus' bedroom chamber, she found two more house elves standing guard near his door. Their loyalty had never ceased to amaze her but given the time, she glided through without a look in their direction. Narcissa found her nephew darting across his room as he collected numerous objects, however, when he heard her enter, he rushed up to her and wrapped his small arms around her. She accepted his embrace instantly, kissing the top of his head as she felt the trembles wrack his body. He was terrified and he had every reason to be.

"Mother said I'm going to stay with you now," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Father wouldn't tell me what happened, they left and didn't-"

She hushed him as he began to get worked up. "You will be alright," she promised him. "As long as you stay safe, that's what matters."

He looked up at her with wide, dark blue eyes. "But Mother and Father?" he asked, the worry heavy in his gaze. It was enough to kill the words of comfort that were starting to escape her throat. She wasn't going to lie to him. She wouldn't dare.

"I don't know," she admitted.

A noise of breaking glass from the hall made the both of them jump. And it was then that she realized she was taking too long. The Aurors could be there at any moment and she and Cygnus would be stuck in the crossfire as the house elves obeyed their orders to protect the house. She needed to get the both of them out and as fast as possible.

She released her nephew and nodded towards his suitcases filled with his belongings. "We need to go," she urged him. "Is this everything?" One look around his chambers said that it was. The double doors that led to his closet was wide open and all of the shelves and racks on the inside had been swiped clean. The display cases where his jewelry and cuffs had once been were now empty, the drawers of his dressers were all pulled out and she could see the bottom of each of them. Everything he owned was gone, packed away and likely to never enter his room again. She had to blink away the tears that threatened to spill.

Wordlessly, she reached down with one hand and grabbed his suitcase while the other gripped onto his hand. No matter what, he would be safe. That, she promised.

* * *

The wards welcomed the two of them easily, allowing them to slip in as if they were a simple breeze in the night and it took only a mere second until their feet were firmly planted on the marbled ground of the second floor. It was the wing that contained Tom and Hermione's bedrooms, and now, Cygnus'. In the beginning, Lucius had insisted that the two of their children be given separate wings of the house, but she had wanted them to stay close. He had agreed in the long run but only until they reached an appropriate age. For now, it would be perfect as they grew up together.

She was back into motion as she stepped forward, Cygnus' hand still clutched in her own. "Dobby!" she whispered, determined not to wake her slumbering children. The house elf that Tom and Hermione had direct ownership of, appeared out of thin air before her and she was quick to haphazardly hand the creature Cygnus' trunk for him to properly put into a bedroom of his own. She didn't linger long, however, as she pulled Cygnus along towards Tom's room. Narcissa wanted to let the children sleep until morning; neither of the boys didn't need to know what was happening. They didn't need to worry. The problems should be left to the Death Eaters and the other adults involved, not children.

But as soon as she opened Tom's door, she stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Tom was awake, _wide_ awake, and nestled in his lap was his slumbering sister. Hermione was cradled tightly against his chest with a blanket draped across both of their figures.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Narcissa led herself and Cygnus into the room. "Tom...why aren't you in bed?"

Her son didn't look back, just kept his unblinking gaze fixed on something outside the large paned window that he was sitting in front of. "I couldn't sleep," he answered, simply and emotionless. "Something's happened, I know it. I can feel it."

She swallowed thickly, letting go of Cygnus as she approached her son. "Why did you get your sister out of her room? She needs to sleep-"

"But she is asleep," Tom's gaze snapped to her, leaving just as fast to look down at Hermione. Narcissa watched as his brows furrowed slightly before tightening his grip, bringing her even closer. He didn't take his molten gaze off of Hermione but he turned his head slightly to address her. "I felt the wards change. They've been changing for the past hour," he muttered enough for her to hear. "I ordered Dobby to bring her to me. I can't protect her if she's in another room."

She nodded her head in understanding, making her way to stand in front of him. Cygnus had moved to stand beside the chair, next to his cousins and the two boys looked to her, waiting. They always had been too smart for their own good.

Her mouth felt dry, the words in her mouth too heavy in more ways than one. "We'll talk about it in the morning," she offered, watching as Tom and Cygnus darted a look in each other's direction. "Right now, I just want us to all be together, okay? We're going to lay down in here and wait until the morning. Am I clear? We will all be fine as long as we're together."

* * *

Chaos had erupted amongst the Death Eaters. Reasoning had gotten old for the past two hours and all it left was them biting each other's heads off as each fought to have their voices heard. They wanted action, wanted _revenge_ for their fallen Lord and some wanted to cause as much damage as possible to their enemies. He had tried to get the majority of them under control, but it was a useless action. Too many of them were furious and scared and too many of them didn't know what to do with themselves.

They were lost without order.

It was Bella that kept igniting the fire within the group. After every few minutes, Lucius could see her fingers twitch around her wand in anticipation. He could see the bloodlust in her unhinged eyes, could see the way her eyes darted towards the doors and windows as if plotting her escape. She knew no one would stop her, yet she stayed, trying with little success to enrage the remaining Death Eater into action. She knew better than to try him.

Almost immediately after the signal had been sent, many of the Death Eaters in the top ranks apparated directly into the Manor. However, with slight unease, Lucius noted that every was accounted for except Severus. In times like this and every other meeting with the Dark Lord, he always stood next to the man. So it was very natural to spot his absence, not that Lucius found any comfort to him. But there were more important matters at hand that needed his attention, matters that were quickly escalating beyond proportions.

"I refuse to stand in this house while our Lord is alone, defeated and needing our assistance," Bellatrix stalked beyond the perimeters of the circle the Death Eaters had created. Her wild hair seemed to crackle as her magic flared dangerously, curls spilling into her face with every word she spoke. "We must stick to the plan," she insisted, with wide, obsessive eyes. "The Potter house will be swarmed with the remaining Order. That leaves our other targets open and _unguarded._ They'll think we're finished, abandoning our cause at the fall of our Lord! We must avenge him," her hiss filled the room with cause, strong and commanding that several of the Death Eaters were nodding their heads feverently in agreement.

Rodolphus moved to stand beside his wife, the same dark gleam in his eyes as Rabastan joined him. "The Longbottoms were our second option," he voiced. "They won't see us coming if we act now."

Apart from Barty Crouch Jr. eagerly joining their team, no one moved. Lucius could feel Bella's burning glare singeing into his face but he pointedly avoided her gaze. There too many risks in their hasty actions, too many possibilities of failure that he didn't hesitate to decline the offer. He had a family to protect, a life to live and he couldn't do that rotting away in Azkaban.

He heard Bella scoff in disbelief when several of the others made no move to join.

Several long, deathly silent seconds passed until Bella and the other three men disapparated with a sickening crack.

It left the others sulking in their own despair and anger.

"We all know the Dark Lord has fallen," Lucius treaded carefully as he addressed the remaining men. "We all felt the connection in our marks sever. I'm not going to pretend that any plan of action is the right one as of now, but I believe we should all return to our homes and wait. We cannot _all_ be hauled into Azkaban. Who would remain and serve the Dark Lord if he were to return?"

His words seemed to be the type of reassurance that many of them needed as they nodded their heads in acceptance, disappearing one by one until they were all gone and leaving him no choice but to embrace the quiet. He could feel his jaw ticking as he stared at the empty room, a word that he had said echoing through his skull.

 **If**

If he were to return...

It was a sentence he never thought he'd have to say and now, the brutality of it all, was that he pleaded himself to be wrong. The Dark Lord had to come back. The Wizarding World strayed further from the right path by the minute. The Dark Lord had been focused on fixing it all. They had finally been getting close.

The Dark Lord had been there one moment and gone the next.

 **OOOOOO**

 **Ending Note: Update will be once a week with the new chapters. Incredibly sorry that I have deleted all of the old chapters but they will be up soon! It was easier to edit that way.**


	2. Heavy, Heavy, Heavy

**Cygnus: March 20th 1977** **Tom: May 18th 1977** **Hermione: June 5th 1980**

Chapter 2: Heavy, Heavy, Heavy

1991

" _Hermione…_ "

Narcissa reached down and gently shook her slumbering daughter, expecting a reaction, but it was to no avail. Beneath the rich fabric of sheets, the small outline of Hermione's body remained unmoved. The older witch sighed heavily and reached out again, "Hermione, you need to wake up."

When Hermione continued to not move, Narcissa crossed her arms across her chest. "We are going to Diagon Alley to buy your supplies. In one hour we are leaving _with_ or _without_ you."

She spun around on her heels and marched towards the large windows that lined Hermione's wall and with one heavy yank, the thick drapes pooled open. The sunlight violently lit up the room, chasing the remnant shadows of night into non existence, but it had no impact on the sleeping eleven year old.

Hermione simply burrowed herself deeper into her mountain of pillows and with another sigh of impatience, Narcissa stormed out of Hermione's chamber without a glance back.

The very moment the door closed, however, Hermione popped her head up and grinned towards the direction her mother had stormed off to. In all honesty, there was no doubt in her mind that her mother had already known she was awake. Hermione had always been an early riser, always had and would probably always would. It was just how she was.

But, she had been restless throughout the night. For the past three weeks, in fact. Time had dwindled down and now, there were only two days until she was due to start Hogwarts. _Two days_. She was a bottle of bubbled up emotions that were fizzling beyond control- fear, anxiety, and excitement- and they wracked through her body without forgiveness.

She had waited her entire life for her trip to Diagon Alley, to finally get her own supplies, and her own robes, and her own _wand_. To finally become a _real_ witch. It was time for her to live up to the expectations that were held so high for her.

Her time had come. _Finally_.

Hermione hadn't wasted time jumping into motion, and soon enough, she was making her way downstairs to the main living room, dressed in her immaculate attire- not a hair out of place nor knick in the material of her clothing. Perfection, and nothing less.

Her attention was immediately on the males in the room. Her father, Tom, and Cygnus were standing near the fireplace, the two younger males quiet as the patriarch of their family talked into the flames. She could tell they were listening to every word with how their bodies were slightly turned inward. Discretion was rare in their family; secrets practically unheard of, which she always figured made them that much closer. All they had was each other, apart from the small handful of individuals that were considered appropriate by her father's terms. And that number was quite low, all things considered.

As she ventured further into the room, the soft sounds of her small heels clicking against the marbled floor gathered their attention. Collectively, their heads both turned towards her.

"Well, it's about bloody time," Cygnus said with a grin, his voice careful not to get too loud. "Aunt Cissa thought we were going to have to leave you here with those blasted house elves."

Tom stepped forward, with his hands casually shoved into his pockets. He was gazing at her with the softest of smiles playing on his lips but his eyes were hard and filled with disgust at the thought. "As if Hermione would actually give up her Diagon Alley trip. And to spend it with those disgusting creatures nonetheless."

She stopped before them and it was less than a second that Tom's arm snaked its way across her shoulder, pulling her into his side with a tender hug that only that of a brother could give. Her own arms wrapped around his waist to return the embrace before falling back to her sides. " _No_ ," she sighed with an amused smile. "I most definitely would not give up my trip. My entire life has led up for this moment."

Cygnus scoffed. "No need to be _dramatic_ , Hermione. Could your entire life ambition truly be dwindled down to school textbooks and a few Hogwarts robes? Seems a bit anticlimactic, don't you think?"

"Very," Tom drawled out. His gaze was back onto their father, watching every word that formed as it was spewed into the fire. She glanced at Cygnus but he too was focused on the conversation taking place. Both pairs of eyes were unblinking.

Absentmindedly, she wondered where her mother was. In times such as these, when the boys were too _distracted_ , her mother usually kept her busy with small talk. Neither of them cared too much about her father's deals, but Tom and Cygnus soaked up every word like their lives depended on it. Then again, one day Tom was going to own every galleon that belonged in the Granger vaults, so perhaps, it was his business just as much as it was their father's. There was a part of her too that said she needed to take interest just as the older two did. Eventually it would be expected of her just as it was for them.

With little else to do, her eyes hesitantly followed suit and took in the scene. From the look on her father's face she could tell it was serious. His tone was stern and sharp and it instantly sent her spine straightening. He didn't sound particularly happy.

She didn't enjoy it when he was like that; when he was the complete opposite of how he talked to her and the rest of the family. But she understood the importance of it. In order to be respected, they had to fear you. Power and a reputation was what took you far in the wizarding world. Not soft words and warm smiles. The strong had to be separated from the weak; the superior from the inferior. It's what her father always said.

Her attention snapped back to her father when his voice raised to a lethal shout. She tried to ignore the harsh curse that escaped his mouth but it was incredibly hard. It wasn't proper to use profanity and she could only imagine the storm that would take place if she were to ever dare utter one. She shuddered at the thought but she didn't get to linger long as her father ended the call with a violent wave of his hand. The three of them were quick to stand up straighter when the older wizard turned around.

None of them dared to speak. They all played it safe and waited for their father to make the first move.

"Useless," he seethed. "All of them."

Hermione bit the insides of her cheeks at the tension in the air. Beside her, Cygnus kept his eyes glued onto their father, but then, Tom stepped forward. Both Hermione's and Cygnus' gazes flickered onto him.

"Those in favor were outnumbered?" Tom spoke. It was meant as a question but it didn't sound like it to her ears.

Lucius clutched at the walking stick gripped tightly in his hand. The snake's beady emerald eyes glinted. "Six to six. Those opposed said there was no viable evidence that Dumbledore is incapable of continuing as Headmaster. Therefore," his jaw clenched, "we must wait another year to vote again."

Cygnus groaned, visibly deflating as his hands fisted. Tom, however, stayed poised. The only thing that exposed how he truly felt was the abrupt, single twitch of his brow.

"Mark my words," their father shook his head, "one day that fool will make a mistake, and it will be something that he will not be able to get away with. The Board of Governors will have no choice but to get rid of him."

"And how long do you think that would take?" Tom pushed.

"It should have already happened," Cygnus mumbled under his breath.

Lucius nodded towards Cygnus in silent agreement before looking towards his son. "At the rate he is going, I would not give him more than five years. If all goes as planned, by this time next year, two more of the governors should be… reconsidering their sides."

Hermione's brow furrowed, tilting her head to the side. "Why would that be?" she asked.

Her father grinned down at her and leaned forward, placing a brief kiss on the top of her head. "I happen to be a very persuasive man."

Oh, she had no doubt about that. She had seen first hand how people would bend to her father's every word. Wealth and a pureblood lineage considered _royalty_ was bound to give a person the advantage, the highest advantage achievable in the wizarding world. Her father had power because he _was_ the power- _they_ were the power.

She smirked but the moment was short lived when her mother's footsteps began to echo throughout the room. Hermione turned excitedly and rushed up towards the beautiful witch. Narcissa's black hair was elegantly styled into an updo and her garments were made to perfection; on her neck and ear lobes were jewels that were worth more that most wizards and witches houses. Her ruby lips were vivid against her pale skin but as Hermione got closer, her footsteps slowed to a halt. Where a smile usually was, the corners of her mother's mouth were turned down into a slight frown. Her mother's dark brown eyes were swimming with emotions but when they focused onto Hermione and the others, it was as if a flip were switched. But Hermione stayed rooted, trying desperately hard to think of a reason her mother may be upset. Perhaps she hadn't appreciated being ignored this morning.

Hermione dug her front teeth into her bottom lip. Her father sidestepped her with ease to approach his wife.

"There you are. Are we…," his voice died down as his mercurial eyes narrowed on her form. His head notched to the side. "...ready?"

He turned back towards the children and shared a look with his son. It was obvious he hadn't been the only one to pick up on her strange expression. Tom's eyes were sharp on his mother.

Narcissa nodded her head and smiled a thin-lipped smile. It was too strained. "Ready whenever you are darling."

She moved forward to stand with her children and gently ran her fingers through Hermione's curls as she briefly pressed down onto her young daughter's shoulders to maintain the proper position. Hermione took the corrections silently and craned her neck upwards, reaching up to cover her mother's hand with one of her own before smiling. Hermione couldn't pretend to understand what was wrong with her mother exactly, but it didn't bother her. Her parents were strong willed and there was rarely anyone that could truly ruffle them the wrong way. Usually, it was get _them_ first before they got you.

With everyone in place, Lucius eyed his wife one last time before nodding and apparating his family away with the familiar draw behind their navels.

* * *

Diagon Alley was… chaotic to say the least.

She had never gotten to come during this time of the year before. Her father had always said she wouldn't enjoy it but now that she was here, lost in the moment like everyone else, she had to admit that it was one of the most wonderful sights she had ever seen. The place was _alive_. It was an explosion of color and people and the magic danced in the air with each breath she took.

With wide eyes, she watched as other wizards and witches passed by one another; some stopping to swap a handful of words to another with smiles on full display. Then there were some clusters of families that were trying and failing to manage their children as they attempted to coral them into shops, lists in their hands of all the school supplies needed for the new term. Nearby there was a small huddle of children, slightly older than her, and she had to watch from a distance as they ran around together, laughing and taking turns showing off their new purchases from the nearby joke shoppe. She had to suppress a giggle of her own when one of the boys started to turn a vibrant shade of blue after the candy in his mouth had burst.

Hermione turned towards Tom and Cygnus to share the humor, but neither of them had paid the crowds any attention. Their eyes were set forward.

As hers should have been.

She quickly scolded herself for being so easily distracted and raised her chin, copying their stances.

Unlike the other families, her's didn't speak to anyone. They kept their noses held high and didn't walk anywhere near the other individuals. It was almost unbelievable that they were able to pave out a section of the cobblestone paths for themselves, as if the others were simply drawn away from them, letting them keep their private spaces. No one ever got close to them. None of the other children spoke to her. Well, at least none of _those_ children. She had her own friends, they just weren't here.

Hermione made sure to not glance away from her family again. Her eyes were firm on the back of her father's black robe as she followed. Mouth shut, eyes forward, chin raised. The temptations of Diagon Alley were strong but she was _stronger_.

Together, they had stopped at multiple stores and item by item, each of their list of needed school supplies shrunk. It was a relief that the stores they went into were nowhere near as packed as the others they had passed. She knew it was because the prices were immensely higher than what they should have been, but it was another one of those added bonuses that came with being wealthy. Merlin forbid any of the Granger or Lestrange children get anything mediocre.

Still, she couldn't help but frown as she recalled the crowds that were gathered at some of the entrances of the shoppes that they had passed. It had made her cringe at the possibility of having to cram herself into them. She supposed that that's what her father had meant when he had said she wouldn't have enjoyed it during this week.

He hadn't been entirely wrong afterall.

But with each purchase, she became more and more restless. She had her books. She had her cauldron. She had her quills and embroidered parchment. She had her new satchel. All she needed was her school robes and her wand. Her _wand_. It's all she wanted. Having a wand of her own was all she _needed_. Nothing else mattered. However, it seemed that her parents were purposely putting it off until the end. They probably knew that the moment she obtained it, she would attempt to cast every spell she knew to her knowledge. As soon as they got home, of coarse. Underaged magic couldn't be detected through their wards.

Clothing was their next destination and there was only place that students purchased their school robes from and that was Madam Malkin's. It was fairly decent, all things considered, but it was by far from the best. It was a place that her father didn't particularly care for either and if _he_ didn't care for it, then it was no surprise that Tom and Cygnus sneered at the building every chance they got. Her father had made them send in their own measurements this year instead of having to stand there and get tailored by Madam Malkin herself. Get in and out as soon as possible, as he had described.

However, when the signature golden pair of scissors came into view, her father didn't stop.

"The boys and I will be taking a detour to get some items for tomorrow," he spoke. With the hand not resting on top of his bejeweled cane, he motioned Tom and Cygnus forward. "You and Hermione pick up the new robes and we will meet you there when we are done."

Hermione darted a quick glance between her parents, before settling on the boys. It wasn't fair. They _always_ got to do the fun stuff just because they were older. It's part of the reason why she was so desperate to obtain her wand. Perhaps then they would finally see her as an equal to them. That just because she was a few years younger, it didn't truly mean anything. She would be just like them one day and if she had it her way, it wouldn't be much longer.

She stayed silent, however, when her mother slipped her hand into hers and gently pulled her into the direction of the shoppe. Before they entered, she glanced over her shoulder and watched just as Tom, Cygnus, and her father disappeared around the corner onto Knockturn Alley. She had never been _there_ before.

When a bell chimed above their heads at their arrival, Madam Malkin came rushing up to them right at once. The elder woman began to gush about how beautiful the both of them looked but Hermione hardly listened. She was used to people paying her complements just because of who she was and not if they truly meant it. As her mother conversed with the woman, Hermione left Narcissa's side and began to wander down the numerous racks of clothing, not touching anything, just allowing her mind to find _something_ interesting.

She had her mother's voice within ear range and every few minutes, Hermione would peer between the racks. Madam Malkin was insisting her mother take a look at her newest catalogues, and her mother- being the fashion mogul that she was- couldn't resist. Her mother had inclined her head towards the back section of the store, but Hermione shook her head in response. She would much rather stay to herself than listen to the older woman brag about her garments in desperation to make a sale.

Narcissa was hesitant but she followed after Madam Malkin in hopes that it wouldn't take terribly long. Truly, they were only supposed to get the school robes and nothing more.

Hermione allowed herself to walk down the rows, and without the ever watchful eye of her mother or the owner, she tentatively reached out and skimmed her fingers against the fabrics she passed. She was in a section that her mother would never be caught dead in, but the forbiddenness drew her in. Hermione continued to push forward through the pre-owned clothing and finally began to take the garments into consideration. She lazily bypassed jumpers, vests, dresses, and trousers, and was just about to turn onto the next row when she caught sight of a bright red cardigan.

Hermione glanced up towards the direction her mother had vanished before using both of her hands to gather the garment between her hands, pulling it out of the rack to further inspect it. It was a simple piece, with long sleeves and sides that would rest mid thigh. The material didn't feel rough or scratchy and there were no blemishes in the thread that she could see. It didn't look ugly… It wasn't anything fancy and nothing like she owned but she… she quite liked it actually.

Without thinking, she brought the cardigan towards her dress and noted just how well it complimented her skin tone. It made her pale skin seem to glow in warmth, something that was hardly ever done with the blacks and greys and greens.

Suddenly, the bell chimed again, signalling the arrival of another customer and as if she had been scorched, she threw the garment back onto the rack. She tucked her head down and made a mad dash for the section of the store that wouldn't cause any brows to raise in her direction.

In her desperation, she was hardly paying close attention to where she was going, as long as she got as far away from the red cardigan as possible. She manovered herself between row after row and looked through the small gaps between the hangers to find who had entered the store or if possibly her mother had- her mouth parted in shock and gasped as she ran into something hard and stumbled backwards, fumbling to find her footwork. She was horrified when she realized that that _something_ was actually a _someone_ and watched in mortification as their garments went tumbling to the ground. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. She could only imagine what her mother would have done if a reckless child had ran into her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she rushed out. Instantly, she bent down to recollect them and as her hands gathered the black robes, her eyes snapped to the symbol adorned on the front. She recognized it all to well.

Her eyes slowly travelled back up to the person in front of her. When she had crashed into him, she hadn't glanced at who it had been because she had panicked at her rudeness, wanting to quickly pick up the items she had caused him to drop. But now, as she rose back up to give the robes back, she was greeted by a boy only slightly taller than herself.

Hermione's brows rose as she stared at the boy. He had pale blonde hair that was hanging loseley in his eyes, the same color as her fathers. Her gaze was locked on his and she found herself swimming in pools of liquid mercury, ethereal and vivid and utterly _captivating_.

She forced herself to blink in order to break the trance that had briefly held her and as she came back into the moment, she found herself greeted by a soft smile on the blonde's face. The warmth on her cheeks seemed to increase.

Hermione looked down at the bundle in her hands and slowly reached forward to hand them back. She could feel the intensity of his eyes on her face and resisted the urge to shy away. Instead, she straightened up and pushed the clothing into his hands.

"Forgive me," she replied. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I hope I didn't get those dirty."

The boy shook his head. His smile widened and put his teeth on full display. "No, it's fine," he said with a slight laugh. A _laugh_? She balked at how easy it was for him to brush off the entire incident. Had it been her family, they would have demanded the person never set foot into the shop again, let alone be allowed to keep their _feet_. Yet, here this boy was, acting as if it hadn't been a problem.

At her stunned silence, he continued, "Honestly, I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going either."

With a silent nod, she diverted her attention to the side. She didn't know what else to say but he was looking at her as if he were expecting her to. Those eyes were still locked onto her face. She had to resist the urge to reach up and cover her cheeks, sure that they were as bright as that cardigan now.

A thick silence washed over them.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip in the awkwardness of it all. Was there something on her face? Had her hair gotten wild with her romp through the store? Or even more disastrous, had he seen her in the _poor_ section? Her eyes quickly went back to him and darted towards the robes in his hands. The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry seemed more bolder than usual.

She swallowed, "I take it you will be attending Hogwarts in a few days?" The question seemed appropriate enough and really, she was desperate to end the silence. "I'll be a first year this term."

He brightened at that and she couldn't understand why he would show his emotions so openly. Didn't he _know_ better? Emotions made people vulnerable, therefore, you were to never show them, especially to someone you didn't know. It was one of the most important rules in life. That, and to never associate with-

"Me too," he spoke. "Although I'm pretty nervous about the whole thing to be honest. I don't really know what to expect."

She raised a questioning brow at him. Who _didn't_ know about Hogwarts? It was practically engrained at birth. She couldn't remember how many times she had read _Hogwarts: A History_ and some of her very first memories were of her parents telling her all about their school years and how she was expected to carry on their legacy. Had his parents not done the same?

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, the sorting for one," his silver orbs drifted down to the symbol etched onto the robes. "I've been reading up on the traits each house is supposed to hold and I can't really find the place I belong."

She eyed him carefully and answered, "Sometimes it's not about where you belong, but where you _want_ to be. And if you want to be in the house that holds the greatest honor then join the Slytherins."

It was the blonde's turn to raise his brows. "The Slytherin house?" he repeated. "I was under the conclusion that the Slytherins didn't have the best... reputation... when it came to being… er, good. I was leaning more towards Gryffindor."

The second the word left his mouth, she realized, with a great start, that she had no _idea_ who this boy was and yet, here she was talking to him as if they had known each other for years. If Tom and Cygnus were here they would have ripped her away and scolded her for being so foolish. If her father were to see her now he would have cursed the entire building down to the ground. She wasn't supposed to talk to anyone he didn't know. She wasn't supposed to even stand this _close_ to someone unless her father had been the one to introduce her to them. This boy was a stranger. Nothing more and nothing less.

She darted a look towards the direction of her mother but she was still talking to Madam Malkin and every fiber of Hermione's being revolted at the possibility of having to hear the women drone on and on. No, she wanted nothing to do with them.

However, it wasn't as if she could walk away and continue down the other aisles as if he weren't there. It would be extremely rude on her part and besides, her mother had always harped the importance of manners. But, even more importantly, none of her family was here at the moment. None of them could see what she was doing. In a sense, she could do anything she wanted, even if it were only for a short time. She didn't have to follow the rules and they wouldn't have the _slightest_ clue.

Her head turned back towards the blonde boy. "What's your name?"

"Oh, sorry about that," he said. He straightened up and offered his free hand forward, the one not holding his pile of robes. "My name is Draco Maddox. It's nice to meet you."

The hand between them spoke volumes and she couldn't help but stare at it, over analyzing so hard that she swore her brain were seconds from exploding.

She didn't recognize the surname, nothing resembling it either. She recited the short list of the Sacred Twenty Eight and his was nowhere to be found; only two started with 'M'- the Macmillans weren't friends and the other family had disappeared without a trace. If he were a pureblood then she would have heard of him before… Her eyes widened. She knew nearly every pureblood that there was. Heck, most of them were related to her in one way or another. But this boy- _Draco-_ wasn't ringing any bells and she never doubted her memory. It could only mean one thing.

Hermione knew, then and there, that she should spin around on the heel of her foot and not give another second of her time. She knew that if she were Tom or Cygnus or either of her parents, they would have turned a cold shoulder and walked away from Draco without the slightest consideration of his feelings. _Manners_ be damned.

She knew what she _should_ do, but... she found that she didn't want to. It was actually nice to have a conversation with someone new and not have to worry about saying the right things to the right people. It was like a breath of fresh air with him and she quite enjoyed it. Almost as if she had needed it her entire life and hadn't known.

She gave him a soft smile as she clasped her hand with his own. "Hermione Granger," she provided. "It's nice to meet you as well."

And she meant it. Despite... _everything_ , she truly did mean the words she said.

When she released his hand, she couldn't help the next words that flew from her mouth. "Are you a half-blood?"

Draco looked at her hesitantly, with so much apprehension that she knew the answer before he spoke. She wondered if he already knew that there were some pureblood families, like _hers_ , that didn't associate with mudblo- _those_ kind. Could he know that she wasn't supposed to talk to him at all? Or that if her family were to know what he was, they would sneer at him on the spot and treat him worse than a blasted house elf?

She watched as his lips formed the words and desperately tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

"No, I'm a muggleborn."

Hermione forced a nod. _She would not flinch. She would not run._ _She would not react._

"I figured," she said, voice composed despite the emotions that were wracking through her frame. Her throat felt incredibly dry but she was able to swallow it away. "In pureblood families, everyone knows everyone and… well, obviously I didn't know who you were. That only left two other options…" Hermione reddened at her babbling and cleared her throat, quickly changing the subject. "Are you here alone?"

Draco shook his head. "My mother is with one of the workers in the back getting my wizarding robes ready for term. I wanted a bit of both; some regular clothes and some magical, figured it might be a bit easier to fit in."

She didn't remark how his 'regular' clothes was completely different than her 'regular' clothes. It was the small things that was the stark reminder that they came from such different places. Yet, here they both were in the same shoppe getting the same robes and _talking_ to one another. It seemed easy for him, as if he didn't see how forbidden this was. It was truly mind boggling. Here he was, this _mudblood_ , sharing the same air as her and there was no difference. She had heard the stories. Mudbloods were supposed to be disgusting and revolting and be the worst disaster to happen to the Wizarding World but _Draco_ didn't look like any of it. Perhaps not all mudbloods were like that? Perhaps he was just different? She had never met, let alone talked to one before so it wasn't as if she had experience to back herself up with. She knew nothing about them, only to keep away at all cost. To sneer and insult them at every opportunity, and show them that they weren't wanted, that _they_ were the inferior ones who belonged beneath people like her.

Her mind was screaming at her to run. After eleven years of being told what scum mudbloods were, it felt wrong _not_ to run. Her lips wanted to sneer and she could feel the muscles twitching against their instinct. It wouldn't be long until the mud that ran through his veins contaminated her own at his close proximity. How long would it be until hers turned brown just as his, a vile concoction that would ruin the sacred vermillion fluids that ran throughout her body. Would... Would it be as terrible as they all claimed? He looked _so_ normal. He acted so normal. She _liked_ him for Merlin's sake.

But she knew she shouldn't.

"I'm here with my mother as well," she spoke. It took everything in her to not strain her words. Her hands were wringing themselves as she clutched the fabric of her dress. Her nerves were dancing across her skin. "We were just picking up our robes but Madam Malkin-"

"Hermione, darling?"

Panic seized her when she heard her mother's voice. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly began to turn away from Draco, but it was much too late.

Her mother was striding down the aisle with the look of pure elegance on her face but as she got closer, Hermione saw her brown eyes lock onto the boy. It felt as if her heart sank to her toes. She could feel the dread begin to consume her whole.

"Mother," she smiled as perfectly as she could as her mother approached them. The corners of her cheeks hurt but it was a small price she was willing to pay. Hermione acted as if she had done nothing wrong. Feigned ignorance was key.

Hermione watched as her mother had yet to take her questioning stare from Draco, her brows raised on her forehead. Hermione knew what the gesture meant. The older witch was waiting for an explanation.

Her throat felt tight but she pushed through and reached out to grab her mother's hand as she nodded towards the blonde boy.

"Mother, this is my new friend, Draco Maddox," she rushed out his last name in a quick breath. She saw the surprise in her mother's dark eyes. Had she been too hasty in her words? Had _friend_ been the correct term? Everyone else she had ever talked to was considered a friend, so why not Draco?

She watched as Narcissa snapped her gaze up and quickly scanned the area for prying individuals. Could her mother feel how forbidden this was? Could her mother tell what he was, could she sense it? Hermione's heart pounded in her chest.

But then, her mother smiled and Hermione was careful to not stare in shock.

"Well, hello Draco. Your name is absolutely lovely," she said. "Constellations have always been one of my favorite subjects. Quite a strong name for such a strong boy."

Hermione had been watching the interaction with hawk-like eyes.

Narcissa's words made Draco beam. "Thank you," he returned. His eyes were like liquid silver when he smiled. Hermione thought it was a beautiful sight to behold. More precious that the jewelry that hung from her mother's neck or the diamonds that rested on their ears.

"Mother, Draco is going to be starting his first year at Hogwarts with me," Hermione continued. The nerves were fading less and less. If her mother couldn't tell that Draco was a mudblood, then would the others? If they couldn't then she would be able to talk to him once they started term- she could be his real, _true_ friend. Then again, there was the whole Gryffindor thing, which would only add to the barriers of making it impossible to ever say a word to one another while at Hogwarts. Then _again_ , would they really care if a Slytherin like herself talked to a Gryffindor such as him? She felt that the matter would be insignificant compared to the other students lives at Hogwarts. Why would they care? They would have more important things to worry about than who she did or didn't talk to. Perhaps she was just overthinking the entire thing.

Yes, that had to be it.

With her worries pushed aside, Hermione engaged in conversation with her mother and Draco. Hermione hardly realized how much time had passed until her mother was grabbing onto her hand and nodding towards the windows. Hermione followed her mother's line of sight and saw the striking flash of pale blonde hair of her father and the two teenage boys that were close behind him. Her panic violently crashed back onto her. _Oh no- no, no, no, no._

"Draco it has been wonderful meeting you but unfortunately, Hermione and I have to be on our way now," Narcissa inclined her head in a wordless parting but the more Hermione listened, she could hear the soft tones of urgency. "I wish you the best with your time at Hogwarts. Hermione, dear, we must be going."

She knew that. Her father was not a patient man and she wouldn't dare risk him coming into the shop. She had no doubt that her father, Lucius Granger- pureblood _elite,_ Sacred Twenty Eight _-_ could spot a mudblood in a heartbeat. Less than that even.

Hermione was quick to say her goodbye and shake Draco's hand in departure. The feel of his palm against hers made her smile. She was proud that she had met him; the first person she had ever met on her own without her father there to direct the conversation. She had found him on her own and it was the best feeling she ever felt. She would have wanted nothing more than to take her with him but she knew better.

Her head stayed turned as her mother pulled her towards the door, memorizing his face for the next time they would meet. Her smile didn't diminish even as she waved her goodbye and as the door broke her view.

It didn't go away for the rest of the day in fact.

* * *

Hermione stared down the length of her wand, watching in fascination as the tip bled its faint wisps of grey smoke. She let her gaze travel to the destruction she had caused and grinned at the sight.

" _Well_ ," Cygnus lazily drawled, kicking at the remnant pieces of a shattered long table. "We know that you can cast regular spells, but how about you try something a bit more… _damning_?"

Her brows rose and she turned to look at her brother. Had a _Reducto_ not been enough? Tom was leaned against the wall with his face hidden in the shadows, but his eyes were watching their every move; analyzing and judging, making sure her wand movements were as close to perfection as possible.

At her look of disbelief, however, Tom kicked off the wall and pushed forward towards them. He cocked his head to the side as he advanced.

"That, Cygnus, sounds like an e _xcellent_ idea. Something that is a _true_ Dark Arts masterpiece. Perhaps," he grinned, sharing a quick glance with their cousin, "one of the unforgivables?"

Her eyes widened. She knew what the unforgivables were, she was no _fool_. But the unforgivables were...well, _unforgivable_ for specific reasons. They were dark and dangerous and not for the faint of heart, not for _her_. A first year had no business casting one, let alone any student in Hogwarts, and she wasn't even a true one yet!

"An unforgivable?" she clarified, her voice tight. "Don't you think that's a bit much?"

Tom frowned as he looked at her. "No," he said. "If you start with the hardest spells to master then everything else will be elementary. Wouldn't you agree?"

His eyes were boring into her, daring her to say otherwise. She could feel Cygnus' too, trained onto her face and waiting for her to speak. Her cousin was twiddling his wand between his fingers with expertise.

"I… well, yes I suppose," she fumbled with her words. "But-"

"Good," Tom interrupted her. "We can start now. _Dobby_!" he shouted.

She felt her stomach sink. Her fingers trembled slightly against the vinewood in her hand when one of the family house elves popped into the room, downed in a cushion cover, a mere thin piece of cloth that hung loosely from his small body. She _hated_ them. Usually she avoided the creatures whenever she could. They revolted her with their wrinkly splotched skin and their big, pointed ears and how they could always bring out the side of her father, Tom, and Cygnus that she hated to see- their cruelness, their spite and hatred.

She hated the creatures with every fiber of her being and yet, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them, they were always there- cleaning the manor, putting away her things, tending on her every beck and call and insisting they were hers to command. Stupid, _stupid_ creatures.

She couldn't even bring herself to look at Dobby as he stood before them. Her stare was diverted above the creatures bald head, refusing to look into those abnormally large green eyes as Tom began to circle him, a predator seconds away from devouring its prey.

"Dobby, you are just a worthless house elf, correct? Nothing more than a slave at your master's behalf," Tom sneered.

The elf bobbed its head up and down, his head down low as he bowed. "Yes, Master Tom. I live to serve your family."

Cygnus began to approach the elf, easily bypassing Hermione and sneering at the creature in disgust.

"Then you would be glad for my little sister to practice her magic on you, _right_?" Dobby cowered at Tom's sharp tone.

Dobby wrung his bony hands together. "The h-honor would b-be all mine, Master Tom." The elf turned his head towards Hermione, letting its eyes search her face.

She met its gaze head on, refusing to allow it to see the turmoil that bubbled beneath her skin. She would show it _nothing_.

Her grip tightened on her wand.

"Let's begin then," Tom shifted his head to look pointedly at her.

Cygnus was still twiddling his wand. Tom was staring at her unblinkingly.

The blood was pounding in her ears.

She could do this. If they could do it so easily, why couldn't she? It was just a stupid house elf. A _useless_ bloody creature. She had to prove her worth. She had to show them that she was just like them. It was expected of her eventually.

Her grip around her wand was so tight that she feared it may snap. She had to force her fingers to relax and swallowed hard.

One little spell. One word was all it took.

She raised her wand up once again. With a heavy inhale she opened her mouth and-

The doors of the drawing room opened and collectively, the three of them turned. She had to peer around Tom and Cygnus. Hermione brought her wand down immediately as she caught sight of her mother. The older witch's gaze switched from them to the elf and back again.

"Dinner is ready," she spoke. Was that disappointment on her face? "You three are done for the day."

Tom and Cygnus looked towards one another, both glancing back towards Dobby. It was evident that they didn't want to leave, as if they had no problem ignoring what their mother had said as long as it meant they could make the elf hurt.

" _Now_ boys," Narcissa spoke again. This time the authority was clear in her voice.

Cygnus tucked his wand into his sleeve and strided towards the door. Tom, however, tipped his head back, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and slowly- _arrogantly-_ followed after. With them gone, her mother's eyes locked onto her. Her piercing gaze drifted down to the wand gripped in her hand.

Hermione opened her mouth, "I-"

"Now Hermione." Her mother stomped forward and without another word, she held out her hand and pulled Hermione from the room.

* * *

The following morning, she woke up with nerves heavily embedded throughout her system. This was her _last_ day. Tomorrow she would get on the Hogwarts Express and start her life as a student, tucked away into a castle with others just like her- Vince, Gregg, Theo, Tom, Cygnus… _Draco,_ they would all be there. With her and without the constant supervision from their parents. It seemed like paradise, nearly. It was almost too much to fathom.

But _tomorrow_ seemed so far away.

According to her father, they had plans for the day. A 'business meeting' as he had called it, which usually involved meeting up with their family friends while spending the day in Diagon Alley. Of course they weren't allowed in their father's 'business meeting' but she didn't mind. She quite enjoyed them actually because she was able to see her friends- the children of her father's friends really. But they were all she had ever known, apart from Draco. They were all she had.

At her turn of thoughts, her mind wandered to the previous day. Not the near incident with Dobby or getting her very own wand. No, her mind went straight to Draco Maddox, the Mud- _Muggleborn_. He was so… different compared to her friends. He had _emotions_ and _smiled_ and didn't have any care in the world and had _manners_ and was so _polite_ and- and she liked him.

She smiled into her pillows. She wondered if she would possibly see him today in Diagon or perhaps at least tomorrow on Hogwart's Platform. He would be there but the point of the matter was _if_ she would see him. She could still remember the chaos when she had went with her parents to see Tom and Cygnus off for their first year. The place was going to be packed, crammed nearly from shoulder to shoulder as parents and siblings hugged goodbye. So the chance of seeing Draco was going to be slim to none.

But the chance was still there, even if only slight. Maybe, just maybe, she would see him. Maybe he could sit with her on the train and maybe they could stand by each other during their sorting and maybe he would actually be sorted into Slytherin with her. The possibility was there.

However… her smile vanished as reality crashed back into her. Draco wanted to be in Gryffindor. He wouldn't be sitting with her on the train because she was expected to be with Tom and Cygnus and the others. She wouldn't be standing by him during their sorting because surely Greg and Vince would spot him like a sore thumb, their instincts sharp like that of their fathers.

She sighed. Leave it to _her_ to finally make an actual friend on her own only to find that he is the exact thing she was forbidden to ever speak to. It wasn't fair.

It was a cruel draw of fate.

* * *

As Hermione entered the dining room she was surprised to see Tom sitting down eating his breakfast alone. It was still quite early in the morning and it would probably be several more minutes until Cygnus and the others came down, but the silent peacefulness of it all wasn't something she wouldn't take for granted. She had grown to appreciate the silence since an early age.

When she sat down across from Tom, few of the house elves rushed up to her with breakfast platters and didn't hesitate to pile up her plate. She paid no attention to them, and instead, looked at Tom, who was already watching her. He had a slight sneer on his face that was directed towards the house elves as they scurried around her.

She paid it no mind and smiled, "Good morning, brother."

He returned the greeting but he wasted no time sliding the newest copy of the Daily Prophet towards her. Her brows furrowed slightly when she caught sight of a boy walking beside the half-giant, Hagrid, that she knew was the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. She glanced up towards her brother in confusion but then he tapped down at the headline that she hadn't bothered to red. It's bolded black lettering made her jaw drop in shock: **The Boy-Who-Lived Spotted in Diagon Alley**.

"Has father seen this yet?" she glanced back up, her voice a quiet whisper.

Tom nodded his head. "He stormed out when I walked in. No doubt he's talking with the others."

Her gaze drifted back onto the paper in her hands and she watched closely as the boy walked the streets. He… wasn't as she imagined. He seemed disheveled, with his black hair wild and appearing as if he had never combed through it once. His clothing seemed two sizes too big and he wore _glasses_ for Merlin's sake. This was the boy who had defeated the _Dark Lord_ , as hard to believe as that was. In truth, she had forgotten all about the infamous _Potter_. He had disappeared from the Wizarding World for nearly a decade and she had always figured that if he _were_ to ever return, it wouldn't have caught her off guard. But goodness how wrong she had been.

She couldn't imagine starting Hogwarts with him there. All of the attention would be on him. The professors would probably all favor him just because they were sympathetic towards his past. Honestly, it was quickly dampening her mood.

She knew without a doubt that Tom wouldn't pretend that Potter being there wasn't significant. Cygnus would be… she didn't even want to begin thinking about what her cousin would do. Greg and Vince would try to beat him up at every chance they got, being the brute force types. And she… what would she do?

"What does that mean for us?" she asked.

Tom leaned forward, placing his hand over Potter's picture in the Prophet. "That means we will make his life a living hell," he answered, in a tone that send chills down her spine. "Dumbledore will watch his every move, I'm sure, but we should be able to maneuver around him without getting caught. The problem, however, is-"

"Cygnus," she finished. He would be a problem. When he found out that Harry Potter would be starting term, he would, in complete honesty, f _lip his shite_. He would be a disaster waiting to happen, doing anything and everything in his power to cause Potter hell. It would be a hard task but their father had made it clear that they were to keep their records crystal clear, cleaner than any _Scourgify_ could do. None of them would dare to get into trouble.

"I'll make sure he keeps in check when needed," Tom said, as if the task would be as easy as discussing the weather. He was _insane_ if he thought it would be that straightforward.

She kept that little opinion to herself though.

But Tom wasn't done speaking. He narrowed his eyes down at the paper. "I have to admit that I hadn't seen this coming. I always expected Dumbledore would keep him in hiding but it seems just like something the fool would do- bring in some halfblood arse that won't care for the difference between who's a mudblood or pureblood. I mean, the paper even says he was raised in the Muggle world all of his life so he's basically on par with those disgusting mudbloods. _Worse_ even than all of them combined."

She bit into the flesh of her bottom lip, nodding wordlessly to the things Tom was rambling about. "The worst," she mumbled, her eyes downcasting to the plate in front of her. She wasn't hungry anymore. She felt quite sick, actually.

"The school is repulsive as it is-," he sneered, "-with all the mudbloods that roam in the halls as if its _normal_ , but now we are expected to have no problem with Potter there too? The very person who made the Dark Lord vanish and they want everything to run smoothly? Surely they know that they will have a storm on their hands once everyone arrives."

She sat in silence as Tom continued to drone on, letting her thoughts run miles per second. The cogs were spinning, round and round and round, and she could see a bright side in all of this- faint and minute but _there_ nonetheless. Maybe having Harry Potter there at Hogwarts could, _possibly_ , distract Tom, Cygnus, and the others from hating the muggleborns as severely as they did. Maybe with that distraction, she could have her friendship with Draco after all.

"Tom," she spoke, softly and hesitantly. His head looked up at her expectantly, his eyes meeting hers. Hermione had to say it now before she lost her nerve. If she didn't ask now then she knew she never would. "I want to ask you something but you can't tell anyone else, not even Father."

His brows furrowed slightly and he sat up straight in his chair. She knew he didn't like keeping things from their father but she was his little sister and he had never denied her of anything. So far, at least.

Tom nodded his head for her to continue. She could see the promise in his eyes.

Hermione took in a shaky breath. _Here goes nothing._

"What is so different about them? The… Mudbloods, I mean. What makes them so different from us besides their blood?"

Tom's gaze hardened. "Everything makes them different from us, Hermione. _Everything_. You'll know what I'm talking about when you see one for yourself. They are disgusting, nothing but filthy, unworthy scum that have managed to trick people like Dumbledore into thinking they have actual magic running through their veins like you, Cygnus, and I, and Mother and Father."

Inwardly, she deflated in defeat. What he had given her, was not was she had wanted. He hadn't _actually_ answered her question. Nothing was different between her and Draco. Nothing. But there had to be _something!_ Otherwise, why would people harp so much on blood status' as they did?

Someone had the answers with valid explanations that she could logically understand and process. And she knew the _perfect_ person.

Hermione pretended that Tom's answer was enough and nodded her head at him. She turned into her breakfast just as Cygnus entered the room.

The peace only lasted so long until her cousin spotted the Prophet. He stood up so quickly that his chair went tumbling to the ground. When the stream of profanities flew from his mouth, Hermione took a deep breath.

Today was going to be a very, _very_ long day.

* * *

One thing that Hermione cherished above all else, was when she was able to spend time with her Godfather. So whenever she got the chance to visit Spinner's End, she never refused even when Tom and Cygnus absolutely insisted that she go home and continue their lesson from the previous day.

She had never moved faster than leaving Diagon with Severus, not hesitating to throw her hasty goodbye over her shoulder and clasping her hand into her Godfather's before aparating away with a crack.

Spinner's End was her home away from home. It was nowhere near as grand as the manor but that's why she loved it so much. That, and it was always _quiet_. It was the perfect environment for reading or studying, just the way she liked it.

On most occasions she was there for academic purposes. From an early age she could remember watching him towering over his potion cauldron, mixing and brewing and turning the rooms such beautiful colors as the walls glowed with the various potion bottles he had stashed amongst the cabinets. As a child she had been captivated and the fascination had only grown as she got older, as she was able to understand that not every wizard could do what he did.

She liked to think of herself as his little protege. He hated when she said it, but it's what she was in a sense. He had taught her everything revolving around Potions and Defense, and as of last year, the Dark Arts, but little by little he fed to her everything he knew. By the curriculum standpoint, she was well over the third year.

And as much as he swore he detested her, she could see right through his bluff. No matter where they were, everytime she was there she could see the barely-there ghost of a smile drift across his lips. To anyone else he would have seemed his usual, cold self but she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. Hermione was his Goddaughter, after all.

"Now that the potion is glowing white, you will need to stir in the essence of Hemlock," her Godfather instructed her as she glanced into the cauldron. "Make sure you stir rapidly for half an hour to prevent the formation of ice crystals." She nodded silently, heavy in her concentration.

"Since it's almost done, can you tell me what it is?" she glanced towards Severus but not breaking the motion of her stirring.

He raised a black brow at her, closing his book with a sharp snap. "You mean you do not know? This potion is arguably one of the cruelest and sadistic potions ever created. It is also strictly illegal. When swallowed, it induces fear, delirium, and extreme thirst," he informed her.

 _Oh._

"So we're making Drink of Despair?," she asked for clarification, tilting her head up to her look at him. What in Merlin's name did he need the Drink of Despair for?

"Are you asking or telling?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Telling," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Go on then," he nodded towards her. "Tell me more."

She was quick to wrack through her brain. "The Drink of Despair, also known as the Emerald Potion, cannot be penetrated by hand, nor vanished, parted, siphoned away, or change its nature in any way. It can only be drained away by an individual drinking it. It glows an emerald, phosphorescent color when brewed to perfection and its duration period is six hours."

Hermione watched Severus expectantly, waiting for him to tell her that she was right. But he stayed poised, his black eyes giving nothing away as he stared back. Neither backed down from each other. She had gotten used to his impending gaze long, _long_ ago. She didn't see him as the rest of the world did.

But then, the corner of his mouth twitched as he grinned at her response. "I see you have read your copy of Advanced Potion Making that I gave you for Christmas."

"I've read it three times actually."

He didn't seem surprised. Almost as if he had expected nothing less.

Soon enough, the thirty minutes had passed and Hermione found herself adding the drops of vitriol into the potion.

"Stir for an additional minute," he continued to instruct her. "If you did it correctly, it should turn bright green while smoking violently. It will freeze over before an explosive reaction can occur."

Just as her Godfather described, Hermione watched the liquid in the cauldron do exactly as he said. It never failed that she beamed at her work, feeling a brief surge of pride rush through her. Severus took over from there by lighting a faint fire below the cauldron with a wave of his hand to allow the potion to defrost to room temperature. She was silent as he walked over to one of his many stocked shelves to get a stoneware bottle.

As his back was turned to her, Hermione drew her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking hard about how she wanted to approach him with the 'Mudblood' situation. Who else would be more perfect? He had to teach them potions at Hogwarts, he interacted them on a daily basis once term started. If anyone would be able to tell her what seperated Mudbloods from the rest of magical society, then her Godfather would be it. More importantly, she trusted him enough that he wouldn't do anything drastic when she would ask him. Not like her father, or Tom, or Cygnus. She trusted Severus to more _sane_ in his judgement.

Hermione glanced at the back of Severus' head. "Uncle Sev…" she began, cautiously. He merely hummed in response, not bothering to turn around to face her as he continued to prepare the bottle. "I wanted to ask you a question."

"About?"

"Well, with term starting tomorrow I just- I was just curious about- I just wanted to know-"

"Do you plan on telling me sometime today?"

She sighed and rushed out, "Why are Mudbloods so disgusting?"

Her eyes widened as Severus rushed around, his black robe billowing behind him. His gaze was incredulous as he gazed at her, brows knitted together. She cringed when she recalled the words that had left her mouth… so _crast_ on her behalf. She hadn't meant to say it like that but it wasn't like she had a time turner around her neck.

"I beg your pardon?" he whispered. She wanted to shrink away from his tone. Like her father, when Severus got angered, he didn't shout or yell, instead, his voice turned into a deadly hiss, poison laced on his tongue.

Hermione inhaled heavily and tried again, "I asked why are Mudbloods-"

Severus cut her off with a wave of his hand, dismissing her. "I heard what you said."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion, "Then...why did- are you upset?"

"Upset?" he repeated, his gaze leveling with hers. He shook his head sharply. "I am disappointed."

Her jaw dropped in outrage. She moved around the cauldron to stand before him, her arms crossed over her chest. "And pray tell, what exactly is it that I have done wrong?

"You of all people should know better than to use such foul language."

"Foul language?" she asked, becoming even more confused than before. What foul language? But then it clicked. She knew others considered the word 'Mudblood' as an offense, but never had she realized that her Godfather was one of them. Surely her father or one of the boys had said it before, in front of him and never had Severus said anything. She felt her cheeks flame in humiliation.

"I… I believe I do not understand, Uncle. Everyone says that word."

"If you know which word I refer to, then you understand perfectly well why I do not enjoy hearing it," he bit back.

Her head shook from side to side, her auburn curls brushing against her shoulders at the movement. "But everyone-"

"Well consider yourself not everyone," he hissed. "When a person says that word, they are highly frowned upon. If anyone were to hear you say that, while at Hogwarts especially, you will not be viewed as an outstanding student. And I will not have my Goddaughter be frowned upon. I will **not** allow it, do you understand?"

She bit down on the insides of her cheek, refraining from making a comment that he had never said those things to Tom or Cygnus, and nodded in silence.

With the bottle in his hand, he wordlessly walked past her towards the brewing cauldron. The silence was thick as he ladled the liquid, keeping her eyes trained on his expert hands. However, her questions were still nagging at her mind. They were pounding against the front of her skull without mercy.

She could handle them no longer.

"I met one," she blurted out. "Yesterday, when we went to Diagon for our school supplies. Mother and I had went to get our robes and he- he was there and I talked to him… after knowing that he was a muggleborn. His name is Draco and he's going to be a first year just like me. He's… he's my friend."

When she finally built up the courage, she looked away from his hands and glanced up. He had frozen and his eyes were undecipherable as he stared at her. She felt small beneath his gaze. _Too_ small.

"But I am not stupid," she pushed on."Tom and Cygnus will know what he is the very second they see him. I know that I won't be able to talk to him as if he were Vince or Greg or Theo but- but I want to still be his friend and- and I don't know what to do."

Several minutes of silence passed as the truth hung between them. Perhaps she had read her Godfather wrong and he was seconds away from summoning her father and giving him every detail of what she had admitted. Her heart began to pound at the idea of what her punishment would be, her palms began to sweat. Had it been too much in such little time?

But then, he spoke. "I think you should never speak about Draco again once you leave here. Your father musn't find out about him, nor should Tom and Cygnus or Narcissa."

She refused to admit that by all technicalities, her mother knew fully well about Draco's blood status.

"If you want my… _advice_ , then I suggest you forget all about the boy," Severus said, not meeting her eyes. "You have a high place in the Wizarding World and a muggleborn has no business being involved in it. Surely you understand and _realize_ that you have been born into a family that does not allow or _want_ muggleborns in our world. You do remember what side you are on, correct? I will not stand by and allow you to make mistakes that will only end in disaster if others were to become aware."

She understood what he was telling her. He was only confirming what she had known from the second Draco had told her what he was. If her father found out, she would be casted out, burnt off of the family tapestry just as her mother's sister and left forgotten. Everything she ever cared about, gone, just because of a boy. One single, handsome blonde boy who had made her stomach flutter and cheeks redden with every second that she stood in his presence. He was just one boy.

"Do you understand?" he repeated, breaking her thoughts. His tone was harder than before.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I understand," she answered, keeping her eyes downcasted onto the floor. "You're right," she breathed. "You are absolutely right."

Her Godfather eyed her one last time, watching her reaction carefully before inclining his head towards the cauldron. He held out a second bottle, waiting for her to take it.

"I'm sure Tom and Cygnus would appreciate it if you were to take them a sample of your latest work," he spoke. "They've been asking me for something new to try on the elves, hopefully that will subdue their pestering."

"Perhaps for a week, yes," she smirked at him.

He glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece. "I suppose it is time to get you home. You of all people probably want to be up at the crack of dawn and arrive at the platform in your school robes."

"There is nothing wrong with that," she was quick to point out.

He grinned down at her. "Oh, I never said there was."

She smiled as he led her towards the fireplace.

The potion was heavy in her hand. It nearly matched the feeling in her heart.


End file.
